Suck it up buttercup, the sun comes around eventually.

I've been creeping through all my awkward 'journal entries'.  I guess that's what you might call them; those Word Documents tucked safely away on my hard drive, which delve deep in the secret recess of my mind. Those things that I have to really trust you before I tell you any part of it, let alone me putting it up for the whole internet to read. Some are sad, some are angry. Some are just thoughts I guess I just needed to let out.

I won't lie though...they make me laugh now. To look back, and hear my own sarcasm bubbling back up through they type face. It's a wonder I even wrote it without my computer catching on fire from the lighter fluid dripping off of each sentence. It seems I also enjoyed the explicit word or ten. It's almost like stepping into the Wooden Nickel on a Friday night in some of these paragraphs.

"I’m pissed. Straight up. I’m not even going to lie about it. I put enough pressure on myself in my everyday life to succeed, to be a good friend, to do what I know is right. Why do I need your technological rants about why I suck?"

I guess its better that I use my passive agression somewhat constructively. That I take these thoughts and mold them into paragraphs of rambles. I mean, it's kind of a ramble this blog post, even I can tell that. But whats the point of having 'a creative mind' if there is no room for a ramble here or there?

Anyways. I guess that fact that I can use my words, both in the technological world and in the real world will serve me some day. The fact that I can blatantly showcase my opinions without this awkward beating around the bush. That I feel secure enough in myself as a person to put my feelings out there, and know that though they may not all be appreciated, they are respected for the thought I put behind them.


"It can’t be all bad to be a nun can it? I mean, look, Maria in the sound of music was happy. Oh, wait. Just kidding.  She found the man of her dreams and ran off into the mountains with his seven children singing happy songs about why lifes great. Screw.That. I’m so done." 

It gets me hurt sometimes, the fact that I can and will put my feelings out there. But what can you do? I think I'd rather be hurt because I voiced my opionins and tried to do something for the good of the order rather then sit back and hope someone else does it for me.

In the end, I write to keep sane. And I think it's best for the whole world if I continue too.